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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171112">Wrap me up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi37/pseuds/sage'>sage (kiwi37)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:33:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi37/pseuds/sage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim has a very good birthday.</p><p>*</p><p>This is just the porn accompaniment to my longfic, carry on</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>197</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wrap me up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey uhh if you're following Baby, Talk Me Down maybe wait to read this until you read chapter 12?? There's not really spoilers or anything but yknow, there's kind of a flow to it. If you haven't read my longfic, I guess this works as a standalone, though? Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kissing Conner never seems to get old. Just the press and slide of their mouths together, Conner’s hand searing hot and heavy where it rests on the small of Tim’s back, the way he <em>looks</em> at Tim when they break apart, would be enough to keep Tim coming back over and over again. It’s even better this time, though, because Conner is pressing up against him with an intent that Tim hasn’t seen yet, one hand pushing into Tim’s hair as he crowds Tim back into the kitchen doorframe. It reminds Tim of their first kiss, something raw and needy in the way Conner is barely giving him time to breathe, Tim’s fists clenched in the back of Conner’s shirt.</p><p> </p><p>It’s got that same heat throbbing in Tim’s veins, too, the anticipation of what they might do with a house all to themselves pushing the sensation right to the edge of too much. There’s an electric undercurrent to his excitement, and it intensifies until it’s nearly painful as Conner’s hands and mouth start to wander, his lips finding the underside of Tim’s jaw, the warmth of his hands drifting south, skimming Tim’s hips, the outside of his thighs.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I—”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Tim says, doesn’t care what the end of the question is, doesn’t care about anything except the way Conner’s teeth scrape against his pulse. Conner huffs a laugh into Tim’s neck, making him shiver, and then suddenly there are hands on Tim’s ass and his feet don’t touch the floor anymore. Gasping, Tim hooks his legs around Conner automatically, and suddenly he can feel that Conner is half-hard, the solid pressure of him nudging the underside of Tim’s own growing erection, and he’s <em>sure</em> that shouldn’t be as hot as it is all on its own. That combined with the grip Conner has on his ass, squeezing just hard enough to make Tim buck up against him, and Tim knows he needs Conner to get them somewhere more private than the living room <em>now</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Upstairs,” he gasps, tugging Conner’s hair to pull him back from where he’s working on what will undoubtedly be a visible mark just above Tim’s collarbone, the sharp, hot sensation of it streaking through Tim’s blood, straight to his groin. “Take me upstairs, you fucking caveman, we’re not doing this in your grandma’s kitchen.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir,” Conner says, grinning, and Tim has to twist the fist curled in Conner’s hair to angle Conner’s head back far enough that he can kiss him again, swipe his tongue across Conner’s bottom lip so that Conner opens for him, groaning as Tim presses into his mouth. Conner hikes him up a little higher without breaking the kiss, and Tim feels his back leave the wall, is vaguely aware that they must be moving. He’s pretty busy, so he only notices where they are again when Conner kicks his bedroom door shut and deposits Tim on his bed without ever letting go of him.</p><p> </p><p>The soft give of the mattress beneath him is a nice change of pace, but Tim really only cares about dragging Conner as close as he can get him, letting Conner’s weight against his chest and thighs ground him somewhere far outside of his own head. The nice thing about this, having this with Conner in particular, is that he doesn’t have to <em>think</em>. It’s more than enough to feel Conner’s hands slipping under his shirt, fingers dragging across his hipbones, big, callused palms cupping his ribs, because Conner makes it obvious in every touch, the way he never seems to <em>stop</em> touching, how much he wants Tim. There’s never any hesitation, no pressure, and the same easy push-and-pull they’ve found with each other over the years lets Tim stop worrying and second-guessing and just enjoy the process.</p><p> </p><p>And it <em>is</em> an enjoyable process, he muses as he nudges Conner back to reach for the hem of his own shirt. He pauses, though, meeting Conner’s eyes. His breath hitches a little at the look on Conner’s face, how blown his pupils are, and he has to remind himself why he stopped in the first place. “Am I reading this right? We’re doing the taking our clothes off thing?”</p><p> </p><p>Conner laughs, trails his thumb in a distracting line up the center of Tim’s abs until he reaches the edge of Tim’s shirt where he’s holding it somewhere around his waist. “If you want to, fuck yeah. It’s not <em>strictly </em>necessary, but it’ll probably make the whole sex thing a lot easier, if that’s what you’re angling for here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no, I figured we would just make out for a while and then go sit in opposite corners of the room until Ma gets back,” Tim tells him, perfectly serious. Conner actually blinks at him, and Tim laughs and wriggles to finish pulling his shirt off, catching Conner by the back of the neck to drag him back down.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” Conner manages between kisses, clearly trying to sound stern. The effect is sort of spoiled by the way he can’t keep his hands off Tim, his hands roaming greedily from Tim’s abs up to his pecs, one pausing there to toy with a nipple as the other moves to explore the thick muscles of Tim’s back. Tim can’t help a breathy little gasp at the feeling, grinding up into Conner as the drag of Conner’s thumb against the bud of his nipple sends an unexpected wave of heat through him. Conner makes a ragged little sound in response, grinds back down against him, and Tim sinks his teeth into the tendon standing out in Conner’s neck, not quite gentle.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay…?” he prompts when Conner fails to finish his thought in favor of tipping his head back for Tim with a noise that borders on a whimper.</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” Conner says, sounding a little lost. “One rule: don’t invoke my grandmother when we’re about to fuck, please.” Tim snorts, rolls his hips again just to watch the way Conner’s thoughts visibly scatter, and gives one well-placed shove to roll Conner over onto his back. Stradling Conner’s hips, arching into the hands that keep stroking and squeezing any part of his torso they can find, Tim grins.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess I can find other ways to tease you,” Tim says, and Conner is panting as Tim reaches down to pull his t-shirt up, arching off the bed to finish the job as Tim watches appreciatively.</p><p> </p><p>It’s kind of hard to believe that Conner is even real, much less only <em>half</em> higher life form. Tim knows what his boyfriend looks like, of course, but it’s something else entirely when he’s allowed to stare openly, to reach out and touch, appreciate the junction where the muscles of his back narrow into the thick column of his waist, the sharp jut of his collarbone and the ridiculous broadness of his shoulders. Running his hands from the striations of his shoulders down the smooth curve of his biceps and the powerful muscles of his forearms, Tim laces his fingers into Conner’s, grinds his hips down against Conner’s just to watch what happens.</p><p> </p><p>The way Conner tilts his head back against the mattress, groans as he lets Tim hold him still, takes what Tim gives him, is probably the sexiest thing Tim has ever seen in his life, and Tim lets go of Conner’s hands in favor of pressing down against him, feeling Conner’s skin burning hot against his own as Tim kisses him, open-mouthed and demanding. It’s <em>so</em> good, Conner’s bare skin against his, and he wouldn’t have believed anything so simple could bring him such a perfect sense of satisfaction, drive him so happily out of his mind.</p><p> </p><p>“I want to—”</p><p> </p><p>Tim loses the end of the sentence when Conner starts trailing hot, wet kisses down the side of his neck, pauses to suck another bruise into the swell of muscle above Tim’s collarbone. He settles instead for reaching down to tug at Conner’s belt loop, shudders and bites down on a moan as Conner shifts back up, leaves a mark just behind Tim’s ear. Conner seems to get the gist of it, though, because he reaches down and flicks the button of his fly open, tugs his zipper down.</p><p> </p><p>“I can—?” Tim asks, and Conner nods, runs both hands up Tim’s back, pulling him closer.</p><p> </p><p>“Please,” he murmurs, his breath hot against Tim’s ear and his voice ragged enough that Tim <em>does</em> moan this time, slides his hand down Conner’s abs until the heel of his palm hits fabric and he’s cupping Conner’s cock through his boxer briefs. It’s nothing all that special, just the heat of skin through thin cloth, but it’s kind of blowing Tim’s mind, particularly the way that squeezing gently makes Conner <em>tremble</em> underneath him. When Tim tugs at the edge of his waistband, Conner lifts his hips obligingly, shucks his pants and underwear down to his knees as Tim hovers over him, staring.</p><p> </p><p>Conner’s hard cock is big and uncircumcised and promptly re-tops Tim’s mental list of “sexiest things of all time”—he has the pleasant suspicion that he’s going to be updating that list a lot from now on. Straddling Conner’s thigh and reaching for him, Tim takes a second to just stroke the soft, flushed skin, feel how hard Conner is, wonder if it <em>aches</em> the way Tim’s dick is starting to, still trapped in his jeans. There’s precum beading at the tip and Tim almost wants to lean down and lick it, settles for swiping his thumb over it and sucking that into his mouth instead.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy shit,” Conner says, reverent, and Tim grins when he looks up, the expression on Conner’s face so flushed and wanting that it gives Tim the courage to wrap his hand fully around Conner’s cock, stroking slowly up and down, only breaking eye contact to observe the way Conner’s foreskin moves easily over the head as Tim begins to jerk him off.</p><p> </p><p>“Good?” Tim asks, watching with fascination as Conner’s chest begins to heave in time with the motion of Tim’s wrist. Conner nods, and Tim keeps the motion steady, pausing occasionally to drag his fingers through the slickness at the tip, a gentle tease. He lets his other hand wander, stroking the hard muscle of Conner’s thigh, leaning up to lick experimentally at one of Conner’s nipples. Every touch just seems to drive Conner higher, and it’s not long before Tim can feel Conner’s dick throbbing in his hand, Tim’s own pulse pounding in rhythm.  </p><p> </p><p>“Tim, please, babe, I need to—”</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Kon. I wanna watch you come,” Tim murmurs, reaches down to cup Conner’s balls in one hand. Tim’s not sure how to define the noise Conner makes other than <em>desperate</em>, and Conner bucks up against him, hips twitching like he can’t decide which sensation to chase. He makes a choked groaning sound in the back of his throat as Tim alternates biting and sucking kisses on whatever parts of Conner he can reach, his abs, his ribs, the trail of hair just below his bellybutton. Tightening his grip just a fraction, Tim moves his hand a little faster, and it only takes another minute before Conner is clutching the sheets, body tensing.</p><p> </p><p>“Tim, <em>Tim</em>,” he gasps, and Tim’s not quite sure where to look as Conner comes. He settles on watching Conner’s face, the way momentary bliss fades into something more like happy disbelief as his eyes drift back open, that shocking blue soft and inviting. Tim licks the come off his fingers without a second thought, half for the sake of cleaning his hand and half to get a rise out of Conner. Sure enough, Conner laughs, looking sort of stunned.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy fuck, you’re hot. Can I blow you?” Tim’s not expecting the second half of that train of thought, but his own cock is throbbing even more intensely after the thrill of seeing exactly how good he can make Conner feel, how eagerly Conner comes apart under his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he says, voice rough, and Conner grins, pushes himself up and grabs Tim’s hips, tugging him closer and pushing him down against the mattress. Leaning in carefully, Conner kisses him, slow and lingering, and Tim wonders if Conner can taste himself in Tim’s mouth as he pushes his tongue past Tim’s teeth, licks into him. He doesn’t get the chance to ask, because Conner moves from his mouth right to the same, delicate juncture of Tim’s neck he had marked earlier, making Tim curl his fingers tightly in Conner’s hair as he shudders with the sensation of it, almost too intense.</p><p> </p><p>It’s obvious that Conner is on a mission now, because each hot, languid kiss that he presses against Tim’s skin moves lower, finding some new intersection in the meshwork of Tim’s scars to explore. The way he’s taking his time feels like it’s going to drive Tim out of his mind, but he lets Conner have it, lets him work Tim up until he’s flushed and shaking with how badly he needs Conner to touch him.</p><p> </p><p>“Kon, I—”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm?” Conner pauses, picks his head up from where he’s been working on a new mark just inside the dip of Tim’s hip, although his thumb keeps stroking Tim’s hipbone steadily.</p><p> </p><p>“I want your mouth on me <em>so bad</em>,” Tim confesses, reaching down to wind his fingers in Conner’s hair, and Conner drops another kiss just above the waistband of Tim’s jeans, smiling up at him with so much affection that Tim thinks it could probably kill him. He pulls Tim’s fly open and tugs his pants and underwear down in one go, pushing Tim’s knees open gently so that he can settle between them. It feels shockingly intimate, Conner stroking his thighs and staring down at Tim’s naked body, everything on display for him. He fights the urge to close his knees, because even if it feels weird to be so absolutely vulnerable, he finds that he <em>wants</em> it, wants to trust Conner with this the way Conner has trusted him.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, Tim,” Conner says, hoarse and heavy, and then he’s leaning down, wrapping his hand around the base of Tim’s cock and his lips around the tip, and Tim’s thoughts scatter like sparks. It’s another one of those odd sensations—it feels exactly the way he expects a mouth on his cock to feel, but it also drives spikes of heat up his spine in a way he’s never felt as Conner’s tongue presses up against him, dragging down the underside of his cock as his head dips lower, meets his fingers where they’re curled around the root.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, fuck,” he gasps, and Conner <em>hums</em>, lets Tim buck into his mouth and tighten his grip on Conner’s hair, moaning louder than he would have thought anything could make him as the sensation punches through him. Conner starts moving steadily, building a rhythm of sucking and licking that has Tim rocking his hips, panting and staring openly at Conner, the dark hair bobbing and the glimpses he can catch of Conner’s lips stretched around him.</p><p> </p><p>“Conner this—I’m not gonna—”</p><p> </p><p>It’s impossible to finish the thought when Conner gets a hand on the underside of Tim’s balls and starts stroking one knuckle up against him, matching the rhythm of his mouth and hand and sending shockwaves through Tim’s muscles, his abs and thighs clenching as Conner works him. He feels too hot everywhere, tension building low in his gut, and he’s pretty sure nothing in the world is more important than the soft, wet heat and pressure of Conner’s mouth on him, the feeling of Conner swallowing around him.</p><p> </p><p>“God, Conner, <em>please</em>,” Tim manages, practically whimpering, but Conner just keeps moving steadily, pushing Tim closer and closer to the edge. He’s panting so hard he’s almost sobbing, and suddenly his cock hits the back of Conner’s throat and Conner <em>moans</em> around him and that’s it—every muscle in Tim’s body contracts all at once, waves of pleasure emptying his mind as his cock throbs and he comes down Conner’s throat.</p><p> </p><p>Tim registers vaguely that Conner swallows, licking his lips as he pulls off, but he feels too wrung out to do more than whine softly. Conner doesn’t seem bothered, crawling back up towards Tim and drawing him into his arms so that Tim is tucked comfortably against his chest. It’s a good place to be, and Tim fights the sleepiness that tries to creep over him, resists by tilting his head back so that Conner can lean down and kiss him. It’s soft and sweet compared to earlier, but Tim still feels like he can’t quite get enough, has to tell himself not to chase Conner’s lips when he pulls back.</p><p> </p><p>“So that was, uh. Pretty amazing? Is there anything else you need, birthday boy?” Tim snorts, slides an arm around Conner’s waist and tangles their legs together, happy just to lay pressed up against him like this, nothing but warm skin and easy affection.</p><p> </p><p>“No, I think I’m good. <em>Extremely</em> good. Just keep me awake, will you? I can’t fall asleep at eight-thirty and expect anything positive to come of it.” Conner drops his forehead to meet Tim’s, smiles as he brushes another kiss against Tim’s lips.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure I can think of a few ways to keep you up,” he says. He actually pulls back to <em>wink</em> at Tim, and Tim drops his head back and laughs, overwhelmed by how genuinely happy he feels, wrapped up in his best friend’s arms. He’s starting to think nineteen might be a good year for him.</p>
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